Chapter 9

Bright sunlight was flooding through the thin bedroom curtains when Carol woke up late the next morning. Feeling rather groggy, she briefly wondered who it was that was holding her in an embrace from behind, one hand cupped over her left breast... and then the events of the early hours came flooding back to her.

Nancy?

Carol freed herself and rolled over. As expected, there was Nancy laying beside her but there was a surprise for Carol in the the other woman was as naked as she was. Somehow Nancy had managed not only to transfer herself to bed but had disrobed too. Disturbed by Carol's movements, Nancy's eyes flickered once or twice and then slowly opened. "Mornin', lover..." she slurred. "Oh, my fuckin' head!"

"I'm not surprised... considering the state you were in last night. I'm amazed that you even managed to get the right apartment. But don't worry - I'll go and get some coffee started. You wait here."

"'kay... didn't though... yours was fourth... fifth I tired... maybe..."

Oh, great, thought Carol, what are the neighbours going to say about that? Reaching the kitchen, she filled the kettle and turned it on before pulling two almost clean mugs from the draining board and tossing some cheap instant muck into them. By the time that Carol returned to the bedroom, the steaming coffee in hand, Nancy had managed to sit up and was beginning to look as if she was alive. "Did I have a bag with me?" she asked, clearly unsure as to what the answer would be.

"Yeah. It's in the hall. I'll just pop along and get it."

When Carol returned from that trip, Nancy wasn't in the bed anymore but a tinkling from the bathroom gave a clue as to where she was. Shortly afterwards came the sound of running water and, then the bathroom door opened, out emerged Nancy towelling her face dry. "Oh, good. My bag. And now for that coffee. Any chance of some breakfast? I'm starved!"

"That was one hell of a quick recovery!" commented Carol.

Nancy smiled, "Oh, yes... the constitution of a horse, that's me."

"Okay, I'll finish my coffee, pop to the loo myself then do us some toast."

"And more coffee?" asked Nancy, all hopeful...

With coffee and toast eaten, Carol took the dishes through to the kitchen and started the washing up. From the bedroom Nancy's voice asked if she always walked about the flat stark naked. Carol laughed lightly and replied that she enjoyed the sensation when she could get away with it. "And, besides," she went on, "I've got a job this afternoon that sort of almost requires it."

"What sort of job?" inquired a clearly puzzled but unseen Nancy from the bedroom.

"A cleaning job. Some rich old bastard want's me to tidy his flat up while I'm in the altogether. It pays well and he's only supposed to look..."

Nancy grunted briefly and when she'd finished her little task, Carol returned to the bedroom preparing to dress... only to find that Nancy was laying in ambush behind the door. Overpowered by both the policewoman's weight and training, Carol soon found herself flat on her back on the bed and pinned down. Both women were giggling... and then Nancy reached down and pulled up a length of rope with which she proceeded to tie off around Carol's right wrist.

Carol stopped giggling. "What? What are you doing?" she asked uncertainly

"Just having a little fun," came the reply as the bigger girl secured Carol's left wrist. Carol started to struggle, but it was far too late now and it wasn't long before Nancy had tied off Carol's ankles too leaving her spread-eagled on the bed, hardly able to move any limb more than a few inches. "Don't worry, luv," Nancy assured her friend, "You'll enjoy this... I promise." Then she took one of the pillows and used it to jack up Carol's arse.

Sitting on the side of the bed, alongside her prisoner, Nancy pulled her bag up beside her and, after fishing around in a side pocket for a moment, returned her hands to view holding a nail-file and some clippers. She spread her fingers wide and held her hands up for inspection by the other girl. "Fat fingers," she commented. "Lesbian's fingers. I don't suppose you know this, but people of my lifestyle cruise the hands of women the way men look at our cleavages. Fatter fingers give greater pleasure and are therefore more desirable. Didn't know that, did you?"

Carol agreed that she didn't. At least she was no longer nervous. Sitting before her, Nancy now set about using the clippers to remove every piece of white nail from her hands before using the file to smooth off the rough edges. When she was satisfied with her work, Nancy ran her fingertips up the inside of Carol's thighs. "Smooth, no?" she asked.

"Smooth, yes," purred her captive... and now pupil.

"I hope that you're taking all this in, Carol? I'll be expecting a better performance from you... the next time we meet." Carol only nodded and continued to pay attention, her pussy starting to become slick as she anticipated what was about to happen to her.

"First we have to make sure that you're receptive to what comes next..." muttered Nancy before leaning forward and gently tonguing Carol's nipples one after another. Even this felt good to Carol and she tried to ignore the fact that Nancy was such an unattractive woman. By closing her eyes, Carol could just about blot out the image of Nancy's blubbery stomach and her ponderous, flabby breasts. Trying even harder, she began to fantasise that it was a much prettier woman doing all this to her.

"Once your partner is good and ready," Nancy went on, "it's time to progress to the next stage." Leaning forwards to kiss Carol on the lips, Nancy also gently and very slowly inserted a single finger into the other woman's now eager and waiting pussy. The kiss didn't last at all long before Nancy carefully pulled back and with her digit still embedded inside Carol, she changed her position so that she was kneeling between the legs of her 'victim'. A second finger joined the first as they were slowly... wondrously slowly... so slowly that Carol could hardly believe it, started to move in and out. Already Carol was clasping and unclasping her hands, grabbing at the ropes and pulling. When Nancy had her fingers all the way in, she'd pause for a few moments before beginning to extract them... then a pause before a reinsertion. And so the process went on until, with fingers inserted and motionless, Nancy bent forwards and ever so gently placed her dampened lips over Carol's clitoris. She licked it once, breathed on it, and the withdrew, pulling her fingers back, then pausing and then reinserting. Once the fingers were fully in again, they paused and the lips returned to Carol's clitoris. Carol was moaning now, her head rolling from side to side, her hips thrusting gently up and down in time with Nancy's fingers. Then came a pause as Nancy pulled back. Carol opened one eye for a peek and then opened both wide for her partner was using Vaseline to slick up a small butt plug. Nancy, noticing the look, smiled... and then very carefully, slipped the plug home. Carol's eyes bulged but, in her state of arousal, the small implement slipped in easily. Nancy now returned to her fingering and tonguing, watching with fascination as red blotches began to appear over Carol's chest and breasts. By now Carol was crowing like a rooster and the final application of a vibrator to her clit tipped her right over the edge. Screaming loud enough to awaken the dead, Carol enjoyed the orgasm of a lifetime as it crashed over her, her entire body arching and lifting from the bed before falling back, all a tremble, sweat pouring from her. Leaving her lover to enjoy the afterglow, Nancy stood and quietly slipped out of the room, returning dressed some ten minutes later.

Carol opened an eye as she heard the other woman return. "I think I might just give up men totally," she purred contentedly.

"Oh, I doubt it... you like men too much for that. But I'm sure that you'll be more open-minded from now on. Still, I've got to get to work so I'd best untie you. But first, you have to promise to return the favour."

"I promise! I promise!"

"Good... and you really sounded like you meant that..."

And the odd thing was that Carol did...

A few hours later Carol showed up at the address that the bishop had provided her with. It turned out to be a huge 1960s office block, overlooking the river, that had recently been converted into luxury flats. The concierge clearly wasn't to sure about Carol when she approached his desk but a call up to the bishop sorted the matter out and she was provided with directions as to how to find the place. Unlike her own apartment block, this one felt safe, the lifts worked, the corridors were carpeted and Carol really had to look hard to find a bulb that needed changing. "So this is how the other half lives," she muttered to herself as she rang the bishop's doorbell.

The elderly man answered the door himself and bid Carol to enter. The flat itself wasn't all that large - two bedrooms, a lounge/diner, a kitchenette, a bathroom and a book lined study which, Carol assumed, was really the third bedroom. But the views out of the windows! From each room the River Thames could be seen and almost next door was the Millennium Eye. Off to the left and on the other side of the river, Carol could see the Houses of Parliament. The bishop, clearly proud of his view, then pointed out to Carol several nearby buildings that she would otherwise not have recognised - the National Theatre, the Savoy Hotel, the head office of Shell Petroleum. "And over there," he said, a helpful hand already on Carol's buttock to point her in the right direction, you can just about make out the Palace."

"Buckingham Palace?" asked an astounded Carol.

"And what other palace is there?" teased the bishop. "But if you really want, I can point out Lambeth Palace, St James's Palace and even the Palace Theatre... that last ones a joke, my dear..."

Carol dutifully laughed before asking where the cleaning materials were. "In the kitchen, my dear... but you'd best get changed first. I've laid your uniform out in the spare bedroom. The club were very good and supplied your measurements for me..."

Ah, thought Carol, so that's what the clients called the brothel - the club. It fitted. As to her measurements, what was the old fool taking about? The only thing that needed to fit was the wellingtons. Still, what the hell... at fifteen pounds an hour, she could afford to have her feet crushed a little.

Entering the bedroom, Carol found the clothing set out as the bishop had said. After removing her outdoor clothes, Carol eased her way into the latex thong which proved to be a harder task than she had imagined for the blasted things kept curling over and threatening to turn into a sausage. And when they did this, they trapped her pubic hairs and pulled them out by the roots. And even when they were successfully in position, the strap that separated her bum cheeks, being so elastic, cut into her quite uncomfortably. But Carol pushed this discomfort to one side and just kept thinking about the money. Next she forced on the boots and was actually surprised when they fitted perfectly... or as perfectly as wellingtons ever do. The bishop hadn't been kidding about checking her measurements. Finally she pulled on the Marigolds... then she chuckled as she recalled that comment that Moulder and said to Sculley once - what was it? Something about really enjoying snapping on the latex?

Prepared, she opened the door and returned to the lounge where His Grace was sat on the sofa, surrounded by large, thick books. He glanced up and checked Carol over. "That's better... now, my dear, please turn around." Carol did as she was bid. "Nice bum you have there, my dear."

"Thank you, sir."

"Do you like the uniform?"

"Truth to tell, I could do without the boots, Your Grace."

"That may be so, my dear... but I couldn't. Now, I suggest you get started."

Taking the hint, Carol headed into the kitchen where a relatively short search revealed all the chemicals and equipment she needed. Carol set to work with a certain pride for she might only be a cleaner but she had always intended to be a damned good one. It certainly seemed odd to her to be performing all her usual duties in a state of almost total undress. Every now and again, she would catch the bishop staring at her before getting back to his work and she briefly wondered what the topic of this sermon would be? Wasn't there a command about not coveting the wife of your neighbour? Carol chuckled out loud at this, a sound that the older man picked up on. "What's so funny?" he asked.

Almost guiltily, Carol had to explain. "Ah," the bishop replied, "But you are no-ones wife and you are not my neighbour... beside, I'm not converting you... only getting an very good look at you!"

"I trust that's an ecumenical joke, Your Grace?"

"Of course, of course, my child. We are all neighbours in this world... and are we not commanded to love my neighbour?"

"Not at fifteen pounds an hour, we're not!"

"Touché, my dear." The bishop picked up his book and went back to work... as did Carol. Still, when it came time to clear out the underside of the sofa, Carol couldn't help being a bit cheeky and, laying flat on the floor, she slid under the Scandinavian designed piece of furniture and did the job by hand, her almost bare arse sticking out only inches from where the bishop sat. As Carol expected, it wasn't long before she felt a hand gently caressing her butt...

In the rather more unkempt surroundings of New Cross Police Station, Sergeant Fiona Adoga was getting just a little worried. Somehow or other, after she and Inspector Smythe had last had sex together only half an hour previously, she'd somehow forgotten to put on her knickers... and now she couldn't find them. She'd searched everywhere in the cell in which they had sated each other, but to no avail. Finally, in desperation, she knocked on the door to Ian's office.

"Come in," called the voice of her lover.

Once she was stood before his desk, she explained her predicament. "I felt sure that the must have been in the cell somewhere. But I couldn't see them. And before you ask, yes, I was looking in the correct cell."

"But surely, if they were laying about, you'd have seen them and put them on before we left? I mean, there's nothing much in those cells for anything to get hidden behind or under..."